How did I end up in this awful cell

caged in like an animal.

Diagnosed with a mental disorder

sectioned and put in here.

I had heard those voices in my head

they were from the dead!

Always knowing that I could be a medium

having messages relayed.

But doctors had always said I was ill

nobody listened to me.

This was a gift since I was a child

not suddenly becoming wild!

Dismissed this notion ignoring my plea’s

psychiatrist’s made the decision.

Drugged and humiliated in a hospital

here I lay on the bed.

How to show the diagnosis was false

get out of this therapy course!

Surely friends and comrades may put it right

prove it was a bad panic attack.

How could they mistake my gift for an illness

it took days to understand.

That what I had been telling them was true

the spirits guided me through!

In this world there is much we don’t understand

have an open mind and outstretched hand!

The Foureyed Poet.